Show Jumper (2 page)

The first part of the plan had been simple in theory,
painful in practice. Without any urging from Max, Carole, Lisa, and Stevie decided to show that they were completely indispensable. They had started spending hours and hours at Pine Hollow, doing stable chores and trying to help out in any way they could. Max had really welcomed their help because Red O’Malley, the head stable hand and himself an accomplished rider, had taken two weeks off to attend a riding clinic with a famous instructor. During his absence, The Saddle Club had pitched in to help run the stable. Mucking out stalls, cleaning tack, sweeping floors—“No job too small or too grimy!” Carole had joked during one particularly exhausting day. Max loved a well-run, clean stable and believed that every good rider should put in his or her share of stable work. Only Veronica, backed by her father’s money and influence, managed to find some way to avoid helping out.

“You know, if Veronica put as much effort into doing work as she puts into getting out of it, she’d really accomplish something!” Stevie remarked one day. Her friends agreed, but it was obvious to everyone that Veronica was never going to change.

The other part of the campaign was trickier, especially since Pine Hollow was a tight-knit stable and everyone usually knew what everyone else was doing. The Saddle Club began to train Samson secretly to get him ready for the junior jumping division at the
Macrae Valley Open—the same division that Veronica had entered. The three girls had all been active in Samson’s early training, because he’d been born at Pine Hollow (with their help) and they’d always had a special bond with the coal black gelding. Lisa had been the first to discover Samson’s astounding natural jumping ability while exercising him as part of the group’s stable chores.

The three girls were desperate for Samson to go to the Macrae. But as they spent more time training him and his talent became more and more obvious, Lisa began to worry: If Max
did
want Samson to go the Macrae Valley Open, who was going to ride him? Carole was definitely the most experienced member of the group, and Lisa fretted that Max would pick Carole to ride the gelding for the Open.

Additionally, Lisa had thought that Carole might have wanted to be the one to ride the young horse in his first competition. After all, it was Carole who had been especially fond of Cobalt, Samson’s sire. Cobalt had been a beautiful, noble horse and an outstanding jumper. Carole, who had had no horse of her own at the time, had often volunteered to exercise and take care of the stallion when Veronica, who actually owned him, showed any disinclination to do so. As a result, Carole had loved the horse deeply—and had been devastated by his death after Veronica rode him carelessly over a dangerous jump.

Shortly after Cobalt’s death, Samson had been born. His dam was Delilah, a palomino mare from Pine Hollow. Carole had also eventually acquired her own horse, Starlight—a bay gelding with a playful, gentle disposition, lively gaits, and a natural flair for jumping. Carole was so devoted to Starlight, it was almost unthinkable that she would ride another horse in a competition. Despite this, however, Lisa had still worried that Max would try to persuade Carole to ride Samson in the Macrae when he found out about the gelding’s ability.

But by the time Max had finally learned of Samson’s talent, Carole had already figured out what to do about the Macrae. First the three girls convinced him that Samson ought to compete in the big horse show. Then Carole argued that Lisa should be the one to ride the black horse, because she was the first to discover his talent. After watching Lisa ride over a jump course, and after hearing The Saddle Club’s persuasive arguments, Max finally agreed to let Lisa ride Samson at the show. Stevie volunteered to be the tack manager and Carole took the last slot in Max’s trailer with Starlight.

Thinking about the Macrae, now only two days away, Lisa picked up a pencil and began to chew the end nervously. “I’m going to do well,” she said out loud, as if trying to convince herself. “I have a great horse.”

Carole, Lisa believed, would definitely turn in a good performance—Starlight was a talented horse, and Carole was a skilled rider. But Lisa had never participated in such a major show before, and the Macrae Valley Open attracted the top riders from all over the country. Carole had already regaled Lisa and Stevie with stories of how fancy the Open was—the beautiful stables, the gourmet food served in the concession tents, and how unpleasantly snooty some of the competitors could be. Lisa couldn’t even imagine how high the fences were going to be.
What if they’ve decided to raise them higher than ever this year?
she began to worry.
What if
—

“Lisa!” Her mother stood in the doorway of her bedroom, her hands on her hips and an exasperated expression on her face. “I’ve called you three times! If you don’t hurry, we won’t have time to get to the tack shop before your lesson begins.”

Lisa scrambled up from her chair. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. As Mrs. Atwood shook her head resignedly and disappeared downstairs, Lisa glanced at the clock on her bedroom wall and then began grabbing her riding things. She had been thinking so hard about the Macrae, she hadn’t even noticed the time. If Carole and Stevie had been there, they would have been shocked. Normally Lisa was the most punctual and organized member of The Saddle Club.

But if she had shared her thoughts with her friends, they would have understood. The Macrae was an important
event, and besides, Carole and Stevie knew that Lisa, in addition to being punctual and organized, was also the biggest worrier of the group. “That’s why you get good grades at school and I get graded on just keeping my head above water!” Stevie had said once.

Lisa quickly changed into her old breeches and a shirt. After gathering her boots and the rest of her riding gear, she ran out the door to join her mother.

Mrs. Atwood was already sitting behind the wheel of her car. She smiled at Lisa as she scrambled into the passenger seat. Her impatience had vanished, and Lisa suspected she knew why. For the past few weeks, her mother had been on cloud nine after learning that her daughter was going to ride in the Macrae Valley Open. Mrs. Atwood, who yearned to mingle with the “right” sorts of people in society, knew that the Macrae, held just outside Philadelphia’s most exclusive neighborhoods, was one of the area’s biggest society events.

Mrs. Atwood pulled out of the driveway and began heading toward the tack shop near Pine Hollow. “Are you excited about your new riding outfit?” she asked, leaning over and patting Lisa on the arm.

Lisa nodded, still out of breath from her dash down the stairs and into the car. Her mother had insisted on buying her a whole new riding outfit—boots, breeches, jacket, shirt. In fact, she had had to make the offer several times, because Lisa couldn’t believe at first that her mother wanted to be so generous about anything to
do with riding. Although Mrs. Atwood had originally signed Lisa up for riding lessons as part of her education in becoming “a young lady,” she had been dismayed at the extent of Lisa’s horse-craziness. All Lisa’s other lessons—ballet, piano, needlepoint—had taken a backseat to her love of riding. But the fact that Lisa was riding in the
Macrae Valley Open
, an event that registered on her mother’s society radar, made all the difference in Mrs. Atwood’s attitude.

“I saw the most darling jacket in a catalog yesterday,” Mrs. Atwood continued gushingly. “It was navy blue, which I think will be just right with your fair skin. Perhaps I’d better take you for a makeover at my beauty salon. You can get some new blusher and lip gloss. You don’t want to look too pale for the show, do you?”

At any other time, Lisa would have winced and then good-humoredly persuaded her mother not to get her a makeover appointment. Lisa always tried to limit her involvement in activities that her mother thought would develop her “feminine qualities.” Past experience had taught her that any activities planned by her mother could take away precious time from riding.

As her mother happily chattered about the Macrae, Lisa absently mumbled, “Sure, Mom,” at regular intervals and continued to gaze out the car window. Within seconds she was daydreaming about the show again—but from a very different angle than her mother.

The girls had worked hard to convince Max to enter
Samson in the show because they all believed that the black horse deserved his first chance at a big event. But they also wanted Samson or Starlight to beat Veronica in the junior jumping division. The victory would be all the sweeter if Veronica had no idea what she was up against. Although Veronica respected Carole’s experience as a rider, she had belittled Lisa’s riding ability on more than one occasion, because Lisa hadn’t been riding as long as Carole, Stevie, or Veronica.

Now, remembering the times that Veronica had made fun of her, Lisa felt a little wicked thrill of satisfaction.
Veronica has no
clue
about Samson
, she said to herself.
She probably thinks I’m riding Prancer, and that I’m just doing the show for the experience.

Unlike Carole and Stevie, Lisa didn’t own a horse. Her parents had offered a few times to buy her one, but she had declined, preferring to wait until she had gained more experience as a rider and could better select a horse that complemented her personality and riding abilities. Not having a horse had never presented her with a problem—she rode Prancer, a Pine Hollow Thoroughbred, so often that the mare almost seemed like her own. At times during the past couple of weeks, Lisa had almost felt guilty for not wanting to take Prancer to the Macrae Valley Open. But Samson’s natural talent over jumps made him an obvious choice for the event.

What made the discovery of Samson’s talent so special was that The Saddle Club had watched him grow from birth, when he was a leggy, awkward colt, to a sweet-tempered, high-spirited, sleek black horse. And his ability and training had been their secret and their project, although they had eventually let Red and Mr. Grover, a local horse trainer, in on their plan.

Once Max found out about his training, he helped The Saddle Club with tips and advice such as exposing Samson to a lot of different jumps to prepare him for the open. But he had let the three girls continue to work with Samson as much as possible over the last few weeks. Samson had taken every obstacle with ease and enthusiasm. He was clearly born to jump, and he knew it.

Veronica, on the other hand, was born to brag. She hadn’t let up on her boasting about the Macrae Valley Open and how she was going to win the junior jumping event.

“Did you say blue, dear?” Mrs. Atwood asked, breaking into Lisa’s thoughts. “Blue or green for your jacket?”

They pulled up to the tack shop. Lisa anxiously checked her watch. The shop was only five minutes from the stable, but she was due at Pine Hollow in half an hour for her last lesson before the open. She really needed to hurry with trying things on …

“S
TARLIGHT
’
S BEEN IN
a terrific mood lately. I really think he knows he’s going to a show,” Carole said, fitting a bridle over her horse’s head. As if in agreement, the bay gelding nodded his head. Then he nuzzled her neck while she fastened his bridle.

“Well, if anyone can read a horse’s mind, it’s you,” said Stevie. She tightened the girth of the saddle on Belle, her bay mare. She spoke only half jokingly. Besides being the most experienced rider of the three of them, Carole also knew more about horses and stable management and could talk about them day and night.

“Are you disappointed about not competing?” Carole asked delicately. She still couldn’t get over the fact that Stevie had volunteered to be tack manager for the show. During the early days of their Macrae campaign, Stevie had even offered to scout out Samson’s competition, heroically spending time with Veronica to study her strengths and weaknesses. The three girls had once seen a war movie in which the commanding officer had advised, “Know your enemy,” so Stevie had grimly started angling for invitations to spend time at Veronica’s house. Despite her good intentions, Stevie had eventually given up on hanging out with Veronica. It had just proved too painful for both of them.

“Nah.” Stevie shrugged in answer to Carole’s question.
“I really want Samson to make his big debut, just as much as you guys, and Lisa was the one who discovered his talent. And you’re definitely the most experienced rider from Pine Hollow. If Veronica hadn’t taken over the other two stalls in Max’s trailer, well, then I really would’ve put up a fight to go to the Macrae with Belle. But as things turned out, we’ll just wait for the next big show, won’t we, girl?” She gave Belle an affectionate pat on the nose and the mare nickered in response. “And then we’ll take the blue ribbon in dressage.”

Carole nodded, agreeing with Stevie’s last comment. Carole, and everybody else in the world, never ceased to be amazed that Stevie, the zaniest and most disorganized member of The Saddle Club, was a star performer in the demanding, technical, intricate sport of dressage. In fact, Stevie’s high standards and organizational skills for dressage—and her nonstop energy—made Carole and Lisa believe she might actually make a good tack manager for the open, and a good tack manager was extremely important. Max referred to the job as the “glue that holds together a good horse show performance.” The tack manager was required to keep track of all the equipment, help people tack up for their events, and help care for the horses. In addition, the tack manager had to be prepared for every emergency from a missing button to a broken stirrup leather.